


How Not To Fall In Love

by Zaffie



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Because He's A Loser, But Also Ward Is Just Loving On Skye, F/M, General Teaminess, Get Your Act Together Ward, Jemma Simmons Kicks Ass At Xbox, Skye And Simmons Are BFFs Okay, Skye Thinks Ward Should Get A Move On, Slow Burn, Team Bonding, This Is How I Wish It Would Go, Ward's In Denial, Zaffie Also Thinks Ward Should Get A Move On
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-03-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1212109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaffie/pseuds/Zaffie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ward's struggling with denial. He's been struggling for months, actually, and something's gotta give - which is probably why his symptoms are just starting, and they are HORRIBLE. He's never been in love before, but he considers it a fate worse than... well, some other awful fate. Can Skye and her beautiful face just get out of his head for one minute, please? (aka Ward's in denial. Serious denial. But come on, he can't hold out forever!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step 1: Basic Denial

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm thinking this is going to be a multi-chapter at this point, but we'll see how it goes. Shout out in the comments if you reckon it should continue! :D
> 
> 1x13 just KILLED me (and what is even up with AoS and their stupid new 'one episode a month' programming?) and it's taken me a while to get back into the fic world. I couldn't bring myself to write about anything remotely close to T.R.A.C.K.S., because those of you who know me will know that I consider Skye my own personal clone and I love her to pieces, so having her in mortal jeopardy is driving me insane. Consider this fic to take place about nine or ten months after she recovers (whenever that may be).

They are all getting way too close to each other.

     Ward realises this when he heads into the bathroom that morning at 6 AM and finds it already occupied. Skye is standing by the sink, earbuds in, wearing jeans slung low around her hips and a pale blue bra. She’s brushing her hair out and bobbing her head to whatever music is on her iPod. Ward is seriously distracted by the broad expanse of skin Skye’s showing, so it takes him longer than it should to realise that the shower is running. He has no idea who is in there.

     Eventually Skye notices him, as she puts down the hairbrush and turns to reach for the toothbrush. She grins, and makes a shooing motion with her hands. “It’s girl time, Ward. You can only be in here if you’re a girl.”

     “Says who?” he protests.

     “We made a roster,” Skye says.

     “But there are _three_ bathrooms, Skye.”

     “Well sure,” she sighs, like he’s really stupid not to understand, “but one of them is only a toilet, and the other one is really small and poky, so Jemma and I decided to claim this one.”

     It’s Simmons in the shower then, he thinks. He’s going to say something about that, but his eyes drop to Skye’s breasts against his will, and whatever it was flies out of his head. She probably notices that he’s staring, but to her credit, she just grabs the toothpaste and turns back to the mirror.

     “Get out, Ward,” she says through a mouthful of toothbrush. “You and your penis aren’t allowed to be in here.”

     The shower cuts off, and Simmons emerges. She has a towel wrapped around her chest and she frowns when she sees Ward. “Isn’t it girl time?”

     Skye spits in the sink. “That’s what I’m trying to tell him,” she agrees. “Kick him out, Jem.”

     “Agent Ward, I need to get dressed,” Simmons says. She stresses his title, maybe in an attempt to remind him why it’s inappropriate for him to be in here. Ward doesn’t rise to the bait, because he wants his shower, damn it!

     “Why doesn’t Skye have to leave too?” He’s whining, and it’s not attractive. Dimly, he registers that six months ago he would _never_ have been arguing over bathroom privileges with a female agent like this. The team has changed him.

     “Because Skye’s not going to look.”

     “I’m not going to look!” he exclaims. “I’m not a pervert, Simmons!”

     “Oh _please,_ ” Skye chimes in. “You are _such_ a perv, Ward. I saw you perving earlier.” Ward has the grace to look apologetic, and Skye grins and continues, “It’s okay, though, we still love you and we won’t tell May.”

     “How do you know about that?” Ward yelps. “Did Coulson _tell_ everyone?”

     Skye and Simmons exchange a glance. “Told you they were sleeping together,” Skye says. “You owe me ten bucks.”

     “That’s not fair,” Simmons mutters. “I _agreed_ with you, it was just Fitz who didn’t.”

     “Not my problem,” the younger woman shrugs. “Get Fitz to pay.”

     Ward feels like he’s rapidly losing control of this situation. “May and I aren’t sleeping together,” he protests.

     “Yes you are,” Skye tells him.

     “Um, no.”

     “You don’t have to deny it, Ward,” Simmons says kindly.

     “You so are!” Skye cries at the same time.

     “ _No_ , we’re definitely _not_.” He doesn’t seem to be convincing them, even though he’s telling the truth. He broke it off with May after Skye got shot. He still doesn’t know why, but he doesn’t regret it.

     “Look, we can stand here and argue about this all day, but I’m getting cold,” Simmons says. “Go away so I can get dressed.”

     Ward leaves, because he doesn’t really have another option right now.

 

He comes into the main room later that day and finds the entire team sans Coulson seated on the lounges.

     Skye glances up at him from where she’s lying sprawled across the laps of Fitzsimmons and grins. “Look!” she announces. “Fitz made us an Xbox!”

     “I didn’t _make_ the Xbox,” Fitz protests.

     “Yes you did,” Skye tells him, and Fitz subsides with only a genial murmur. Ward can’t blame him. Skye is pressed up against Fitz and staring at him with a look of goofy adoration and for some reason Ward is feeling absurdly jealous. He doesn’t _care_ if Skye has a crush on Fitz, he tells himself firmly, only he does care. He cares too much.

     May, seated on the opposite couch, looks up from her book and fixes him with a single, delicately arched eyebrow.

     _Shut up_ , Ward wants to tell her. Sometimes he has the uncomfortable feeling that she’s looking straight through his flesh and into his soul. He glances away quickly, and looks down at his feet. They’re kind of large, for feet, and if he’s honest he’s always been a little bit awkward about them – which is stupid, because no one he’s ever met judges him by his feet. Still, he stumbles across the room staring at his feet and slumps onto the sofa next to Fitz.

     He zones out watching the screen, lost in thoughts. The closely-knit, tightly packed knot of people next to him is starting to make him feel alone, and he’s feeling deep and a little bit pessimistic, so he starts wondering if that’s his fault; if maybe he drives everybody away. He’s still wondering when Skye scoots up the lounge and plonks her head down in his lap.

     “Hey,” Ward says automatically.

     “Hey what?” she asks, rolling her head so that she can look up at him, and oh god, he’s trying to hard not to think about how close her face is to a certain part of his anatomy but _seriously_ , she’s fixing him with those gorgeous chocolate eyes and- “Hello? Ward! Hey what?”

     Right. Conversation. He pulls his mind out of the gutter and makes sure his face is blank. “You’re sitting on me,” he tells Skye.

     “Well technically I’m lying on you, but thanks anyway, Captain Obvious.” She twists around again, onto her stomach with her head turned to the side so that she can watch the Xbox. Her cheek is pillowed on Ward’s thigh and her arms are curled up beneath her chest. She’s kind of warm, if he’s honest, and soft and comfortable lying there. He likes feeling her whole body move as she breathes. It’s comforting.

     “Skye,” Simmons calls, manipulating the controller furiously. She seems to be thrashing Fitz in whatever racing game they’re playing. Ward is impressed. “Get your foot out of my stomach.”

     The woman shrugs, and shifts one ugg-boot-covered foot. “Better?”

     Simmons doesn’t reply, but she does win the game, so she’s probably content.

 

May is the first to leave. She heads back to the cockpit to change their course, and then Fitz dashes down to the lab to work on something, and Simmons gets bored of playing with Skye because it’s too easy for her, so she makes tea and takes it down to Fitz, and suddenly Ward is alone with Skye on his lap.

     He thinks he should say something, but then she wriggles in closer, and tucks one of her hands under his thigh and gives a contented sigh. Ward sees her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, long and dark and curling.

     “Skye?”

     “Mmm?” she replies drowsily.

     “Are you falling asleep?”

     “Maybe,” she slurs. “Don’t move, kay?”

      “Okay,” he says.

     When his leg is starting to fall asleep and her breathing has evened out, he gingerly places his palm on her head. She shifts a little under his hand, and he rubs her hair. Her face is slack when she’s asleep, young and naïve and innocent-seeming. Ward likes seeing her like this – partly because it gives him a chance to examine her when she’s not talking or moving, but mostly because it makes him feel trusted, to have her lying here and sleeping on him. She thinks he’ll take care of her.

     He will take care of her. He’ll always take care of her. She doesn’t know that yet.

 

“Did I fall asleep?” she murmurs after a couple of hours. Her eyes are fuzzy and her hair is touseled. Sleep looks good on her.

     “Yeah,” Ward says bluntly. “My leg did too.”

     “Sorry,” Skye whispers. She pats his knee. “Sorry, leg.”

     “Are you okay?” Ward asks. She looks up at him and laughs.

     “No, Ward, I’m just weird. Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?”

     He shrugs, and she pushes herself into a sitting position, yawns and runs a hand through her hair. “Want to play Xbox?”

     “How about we train instead,” he counters.

     “Battleship?” she asks hopefully. “Please, Robot. I’m tired from this morning. My limbs are mere human flesh, you know.”

     “Fine,” he concedes. It helps that he loves board games, so he’s usually a little bit _too_ willing to acquiesce to her requests. “Go and get the game.”

     “Yes!” Skye squeals. She throws her arms around his neck. “You’re the best SO.”

     Ward freezes up for a split second, but she doesn’t let go. Slowly his arms come up and fold around her slender frame. Her hair tickles his wrists and he feels the warmth of her through her shirt. He inhales deeply and feels something tugging at his belly – a feeling, something so powerful and overwhelming that it threatens to sweep him away if he doesn’t acknowledge it.

     Love, he thinks, and then he pushes the feeling and Skye away and stands up. “Let’s go,” he says, and takes three large strides. When he’s out of earshot, he mutters, “before I say something I’ll regret,” and he scowls at the wall.


	2. Step 2: Avoid Skye And Her Pretty Eyes

“Did you wrap your hands?” Ward asks when Skye traipses down the stairs to the cargo bay that morning.

     “Yeah. D’you want to check?” she says, holding out her hands.

     Ward shakes his head quickly, ignoring the flutter of adrenaline in his stomach. “Nope.” He frowns. “You’re ten minutes late.”

     “Because I’m _bleeding_ and I’m in _pain_ , Robot.”

     Instantly, Ward is alert. He grabs Skye’s arm. “You’re bleeding? Where?”

     She yanks it away from him. “My vagina, idiot. I’ve only got cramps, don’t freak out.”

     Ward’s face goes hot. He turns away quickly, because Skye seems extra snarky today and he knows that she’ll mock him if she sees him blush. “You still have to do push-ups for being late.”

     “Sure,” she grumbles as she gets down to the floor. “Why don’t I kick you in the balls and then see if _you_ can do push-ups?”

     Ward’s a little bit scared, if he’s honest with himself. He clears his throat and turns to the punching bag, because hitting things will probably help.

 

By the end of the morning, he’s decided that there’s only one solution for his problem. All of the feelings that seem to rise up when Skye is near? He can ignore them by staying away from her. Obviously that’s going to be hard when he’s supposed to train her, but he doesn’t have to spend his personal time with her.

     He plays Xbox with Fitz and Skye goes to her bunk to do computer stuff. Success is immediate, and for once Ward is actually able to concentrate on the game – although once or twice (or five times) he thinks he hears Skye in her bunk and crashes his racing car while he tries to figure out what she’s doing in there.

     “Are you okay?” Fitz asks after the fifth time. “You seem a bit… distracted.”

     “I’m fine,” Ward protests. He wonders if he should confide in Fitz. Is that what bros do? He’s never had a bro before. “So – you and Skye, huh?”

     “What?” Fitz says, and then he blushes and looks away from Ward quickly. “Oh… yeah.”

     “Do you like her?” Ward asks bluntly. Fitz gives him a strange look and he wonders if that wasn’t a good bro question.

     “Not exactly,” Fitz says. He frowns and looks sideways at Ward. “Do, um, do you?”

     “I don’t think so,” Ward lies. There’s a long, uncomfortable silence. “Does she like you?”

     Fitz crashes his car and says, “Bollocks.” Then he says, “I never really know what girls are thinking.”

     “You could ask Simmons to ask Skye who she likes,” Ward suggests.

     “Sure,” Fitz says awkwardly. “Sure I could do that.” He clears his throat.

     Ward takes a deep breath and props his feet up on the coffee table.

 

In the evening, he’s feeling even better. He doesn’t eat with the rest of the team, stays in his bunk while everyone plays games outside, and then makes his way rapidly to the bathroom to shower before he sleeps.

     He’s stepped into the stream of water and wishing he’d been able to shower this morning when he hears the door open.

     “Go away,” he yells without opening his eyes. He tips his head back and relishes in the water.

     Suddenly, the shrieking of the curtain rings heralds the arrival of someone else in his shower. Ward jerks his head up and slits his eyes against the water, blinking and gasping and stumbling.

     “Have you been avoiding me?” Skye asks.

     “What?” he exclaims. “No! Why are you in my shower?”

     “Because you haven’t been very friendly,” she continues, “and I thought maybe you were mad, but Fitz said you weren’t.”

     “What else did Fitz say?” Ward asks urgently. Damnit, now he knows why bros don’t have heart to hearts! Betrayal.

     “Nothing,” Skye shrugs. “Just that you weren’t mad. So if you’re not mad, then you must be avoiding me for some other reason.”

     “Can we have this conversation when I’m not naked?”

     “Why?” She flicks her eyes down. “I’m only perving a little bit.”

     “I’m uncomfortable,” Ward grits out.

     “I can be naked too, if you need to even the playing field,” she offers.

     “ _No_ , Skye. This is not suitable contact between a supervising officer and a rookie agent!” Ward stands tall and looks firm. He also covers himself with his hands, which probably ruins the ‘stern agent’ image somewhat. “We will have this conversation later, in a more appropriate setting.”

     “Fine,” Skye says, and she steps backwards. “But I’m holding you to that.” She closes the shower curtain.

     Ward doesn’t move his hands for another five minutes, in case she comes back again.

 

When he sees her the next morning, his heart does even more enthusiastic thumping than usual. Dimly, Ward remembers something about absence making the heart grow fonder, or something. He should have thought of that.

     He needs a new plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit shorter than the first chapter, and I imagine the next two will be short as well - but I'm doing a bunch of writing on another fic that I seem to be super inspired for right now (go check out Shadows if you haven't already) and besides, this gets the message across xD


	3. Step 3: Find Out What Fitz's Intentions Are

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, these chapters are getting shorter and shorter! But hey, it's a list of steps, right? Like a recipe. You don't need an essay for every step in a recipe! And I more than make up for it in my other fics, which you should totally read ;)
> 
> Look at all the self-advertising I'm doing! So proud.

“Are Fitz and Skye dating?” Ward asks Simmons that morning.

     It’s early. He made sure it was early and she is the only person in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and lazily stirring her tea. Obviously, bluntness is the only route left to him.

     “I don’t… think so?” Simmons says, although it sounds like more of a question. “Do you know something that I don’t?”

     “No, I’m just asking.”

     The scientist tips her head to one side. “I’m pretty sure both of them would have told me about something like that,” she explains. “Why?”

     “No reason,” Ward says. Nailed it, he thinks. He saunters off feeling a little bit impressed with himself.

 

“Did you ask Simmons if Skye and I were dating?”

     Ward sneaks a sidelong glance at Fitz. The shorter man doesn’t look too hostile, but then, he’s heard it’s hard to tell with Scottish people. Better play it safe. “No, I did not. Are you dating?”

     “Would it matter to you if we were?”

     “…No.”

     “Well we’re not, anyway. I hope people aren’t gossiping.” Fitz gives Ward a hard stare (that seems rather unnecessary) before he hurries off.

 

Because it seems to be one of those days, Ward is expecting a confrontation with Skye in the evening. Sure enough, she bursts into his bunk as he’s getting changed.

     “You forgot to knock,” Ward says coolly. See, he can be subtle.

     “Why are you asking the entire bus who I’m dating? Like, seriously, bro, that’s weird.”

     “I beg to differ.” Ward frowns, confused by his own choice of words. He feels like he should be doffing an imaginary top hat. “Uh – I mean, you’re wrong. I didn’t ask anyone that.”

     Skye raises an eyebrow. “Yes you did.”

     “Are no conversations on this plane _private?_ ” Ward explodes. “Why can’t I just simply ask someone a question without it becoming public knowledge?”

     “Aha!” Skye jumps in, quick to find the opening. “So you admit that you were asking about me!”

     “No. Yes. No. Maybe?”

     “Ward, if you want to go out with me, just ask.”

     He tries hard to contort his face into a stern, disapproving expression. “I do not want to go out with you.”

     Skye actually takes a step back, so his expression must have been better than he thought. “Okay, geez. You don’t need to look so disgusted about it,” she says. “Stop prying, Ward. If you want to know something about me, ask _me_.” She turns on her heel and flounces out of the bunk.

     He’s not going to ask her. He’s not going to ask her anything.

 

Throughout the rest of the next day, Skye studiously ignores Ward. She takes his advice in training but doesn’t answer back. She barely touches him, which is how he realises how many times they accidentally touch during the day – most of which seems to be initiated by Skye.

     It’s agony after only a few hours, pure agony. Ward can’t handle the idea that she’s really angry with him, which is weird, because they’ve argued before. Something is different for him now. Maybe it’s love (it’s not love).

 

If it _is_ love though (and he’s not admitting to anything here) wouldn’t it be beneficial to find out if his feelings were reciprocated? For example, if Skye loved him, and he somehow found out about it… couldn’t he use that to his advantage? As an excuse? Claim that he only wanted to date her because she had fallen for him so hard?

     There has to be a way to find out what Skye is thinking.


	4. Step 4: See If Skye Feels The Same (Be Discreet)

 

Ward decides to make Skye breakfast the next morning. It could be partially motivated out of a desperate need to get back in her good books, but he’s not admitting to anything.

     “What do you want for breakfast?” he asks as she saunters into the kitchen with hair all over her face. He’d make a good boyfriend, he tells himself stubbornly. See, he doesn’t complain when she looks silly in the mornings.

     “Pancakes?” Skye suggests. Evidently she’s determined to make the best of the situation and blackmail him into ridiculously complicated breakfast foods.

     “Pancakes it is,” Ward says with a flourish. He starts pulling ingredients from the cupboards and then casts Skye a look over his shoulder. “Do you, uh, do you love pancakes?”

     “Sure,” Skye says easily. Too easily. Ward isn’t sure that she’s really understanding the delicate double meaning in his question. Maybe he should try something else.

     “Do you want to date pancakes?” As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Ward regrets it. He pours the batter into the pan and thinks fast.

     “Do I what?”

     “Do you like date pancakes?” Ward tries. “You know, pancakes with dates in them? Or maybe figs.”

     “Well, I’ve never tasted date pancakes, so I don’t know for sure,” Skye says, “but they sound like something I’d enjoy a lot.”

     Ward finishes cooking with his heart floating somewhere near his feet. This is going to be so much harder than he’d anticipated.

 

“What about push-ups?” he tries later in the day. “Do you _love_ push-ups?”

     “No, I hate them,” Skye returns bluntly.

     In hindsight, maybe that wasn’t the best question to ask her.

 

He walks into the lab after training while Skye goes upstairs to shower. He’s still dripping in sweat, so he’s not surprised when Fitzsimmons protest.

     “Just give me a second,” he sighs, “and then I’ll get out of your hair.”

     “You smell,” Fitz tells him.

     “Fitz!” Simmons exclaims. “Don’t be rude!”

     “Simmons, you know a lot about girls,” Ward says, jumping right in before he loses his courage completely. “Don’t you?”

     “Is this about Skye again?” Simmons asks. “Because it’s getting a little bit weird. I mean, just a little bit, and it’s kind of sweet and everything, but maybe you should just ask her yourself if there’s something you want to know.”

     “No, it’s not about Skye,” Ward lies. “Of course I’d just ask Skye!”

     “Well, then, is it about May?”

     “No,” Ward says automatically, and then he hesitates. “I mean, yes. Yes! How do I know if May is in love with me?”

     “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Fitz tells him. “I don’t think May loves you. I don’t think she loves anyone.”

     “I’m sure that you’d just know,” Simmons says thoughtfully. “Something like that – you’d just _feel_ it.”

     Ward scowls, but he mutters, “Thanks,” and leaves the lab.

 

“Do you ever just feel anything?” he asks Skye that evening when they’re playing _Cluedo_.

     “Sure,” she replies cheerfully. “Right now, I’m feeling that it was Colonel Mustard, in the billiard room, with the lead piping.”

     “You’re wrong,” Ward tells her, “and I meant other sorts of feelings.”

     “What would lead piping be doing in a billiard room anyway?” Skye mutters. “Obviously that was wrong.”

     “You’re not supposed to just guess the answers, Skye. You’re supposed to find clues. That’s why it’s called Cluedo.”

     “I do have feelings, by the way,” she says. “But they’re private and personal feelings, so I’m not going to tell you.”

     “Are you kidding?” Ward exclaims. “You tell me everything else that goes on in your life!”

     “Not everything,” she corrects. “Anyway, it’s your turn. Hurry up.”

     Ward reaches for the dice. Skye hands them to him, and their fingers brush, and Ward feels a tingle in his nose. It could be because he’s about to sneeze, but he’s pretty sure it’s because of Skye. She makes him feel weird and he’s scared that there’s nothing he can do about it – that he’ll feel this way forever and no one else will ever know (or care).

     He needs some serious help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I should specify that this is a humourous fic above all other genres (but not crackfic) which is why my writing isn't quite up to scratch. It's a satirical representation of Ward's feelings, but hopefully at least one chapter will be full of so much Skyeward that everyone explodes (in a peaceful and non-fatal way). So look forward to that! :)
> 
> Thanks so much for all the views, comments and kudos. This is such an epic community of great readers and writers and you should all be proud!
> 
> Edit: Oops, forgot to say - Cluedo, in Australia (the country of my exciting and eventful birth) is a game that I seem to remember has a different name in America. I think it's called Clue - which probably means Skye and Ward would call it Clue, but, y'know, whatever.


	5. Step 5: Screw Discreet - Find Her Diary (Does She Have One?)

He’s sure that Skye writes down her feelings somewhere. She talks so much, it’s impossible to imagine that she doesn’t voice her own internal musings – so obviously that would be the place where she’d write down how she feels about him. Now Ward just has to figure out _where_.

     The first place to search is her bunk, he decides. He has to get her out of the way, but fortunately that proves remarkably easy. They train in the morning, like always, and then Skye scampers off to talk to Fitzsimmons in the lab and Ward seizes his chance. He dashes upstairs and slides open her bunk door.

     He searches the place methodically, top to bottom, the way he’s been taught. There are about three laptops hidden in various places around the bunk, but nothing that looks remotely like a diary. There’s a stack of post-it notes in the drawer beside her bed that Ward pounces on eagerly, but they’re filled with scribbled reminders and notes. _How do mosquitoes get on a plane?_ says one. _Debate the various merits and disadvantages of orange and purple,_ says another. Underneath that, the word purple has been underlined with a tick mark next to it. A third note simply says _Date pancakes?_ The words have been underlined three times, with increasing force. Ward feels like he should probably make date pancakes for her now, having planted the idea so firmly in her mind.

     He gives up and leaves the bunk feeling disappointed.

 

Throughout the day, Ward begins to realise how much this whole thing with Skye is distracting him from his real job. Her training is full of holes and he just feels embarrassed when Coulson comes down to watch and has to correct several things.

     His own personal workout goes just as badly. He drops the weight he is lifting for his bicep curls on his foot, and when he stumbles into the lab to get some medical attention (and an X-ray) he knocks over a tube of green stuff that smells like parsnips and eats alarmingly rapidly through the metal floor.

     “What was that?” he exclaims in horror to Simmons as she pokes his foot.

     “Better not to ask,” she says absently. “Ward, is anything wrong?”

     _Yes, everything_ , he thinks miserably. “Do you have a diary?”

     She looks up, startled. “Why are you asking me that?”

     “I don’t know – is it a common thing for people to have?”

     Simmons puts her head on one side and regards him carefully. “Do you feel like you need somewhere to express your feelings, Ward? Someone to talk to, maybe? Is anything wrong?”

     “Nope,” he says promptly. He has an excellent poker face. Simmons just shrugs and lowers his foot.

     “You’ll be fine,” she tells him. “It’s just bruised. Maybe go and put some ice on it.”

     Ward nods, tries to smile, thanks her and limps up the stairs. He takes some ice from the freezer and puts it in a bag. It’s too cold for his skin, so he goes looking for a hand towel or something to wrap it in. The bathroom door is stiff – he jimmies it open.

     “ _Ward_!” Skye cries.

     “What?” he says hastily. “I didn’t know you were in here!”

     “The door was locked, you loser,” she says, poking her head out from behind the shower curtain. “Is this revenge for what I did a couple of days ago?”

     “Not at all,” Ward replies, although he thinks privately that it would be a very _good_ revenge. “I need a towel.”

     “Well, so do I. Don’t take mine.”

     He snatches up the small square of a face towel from the sink and says, “Hey, Skye?”

     “Yeah?”

     “Do you think I should keep a diary?”

     She shrugs. “I don’t know. Do you want to keep a diary?”

     “Maybe,” Ward lies. “Do you have any spare notebooks?”

     Skye laughs at him. “Don’t be silly. Everything is digital these days – you should know that, you’re a robot.”

     “I am not,” Ward says with dignity.

     “You are, you’re like Marvin.” She waits for his reaction, and then clarifies, “You know, from Hitchhiker’s Guide?”

     “Of course I know.”

     “Marvin, the Paranoid Android,” Skye says with relish. “That’s you, Ward.”

     “Oh, just finish your shower,” he grumbles, backs out of the bathroom and closes the door.

     Digital? Her laptop, then. Ward seizes his chance and runs back to her bunk while he knows she’s busy.

     He goes for the laptop under the mattress first, flipping the lid open and waiting for it to power up. It’s password protected, which he sort of expected. He tries a bunch of combinations. _Skye._ Too obvious. _SHIELD_. Well, no. _Van. Hacker. Rising Tide. Thorhasdreamyarms?_ He’s running out of ideas, and then he hears the shower shutting off and slams her laptop shut, exiting the bunk in a hurry.

 

Skye comes to him later, when he’s sitting at the bar and wallowing in his own misery. “Go away,” he tells her.

     “Want to tell me why you’ve been trying to break into my laptop?” she asks.

     “I did not.”

     “Ward, come on. It took a picture of you.” She swings the computer in her arms around and shows him, “See?”

     “It does that?”

     “Of course it does!”

     “What’s your password, then?”

     She snorts at him. “As if I’d tell you. What’s going on with you lately, Ward? You’re being really weird.”

     He turns glumly away from her and back to the bar, feeling his face grow hot. It would be so easy, if he could just _tell_ her what he feels, but no part of him will allow that. He’s an agent first and an abused little boy second, and he can’t find the words to say… anything. “Go away,” he repeats, and she goes.

     Ward pours himself another drink, fully intending to drown his sorrows even if it takes him all night to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not giving anything away (I'm not) but major sharing of Skyeward feelings MAY (or may not) be coming up (or not at all, as the case may be).


	6. Step 6: Get Rip-Roaring Drunk

Ward has always considered himself a good drinker. He doesn’t get drunk easily, doesn’t get hung over easily, and feels completely in control of his faculties most of the time.

     That said, tonight, he is _completely_ hammered. Smashed. Blitzed. Whatever you want to call it. He’s sort of slumped over the bar, mumbling to himself and occasionally trying to pour himself a new drink. It’s difficult, because the bottle keeps dodging his hand.

     “Whoa,” someone says behind him. Ward tries to turn around to see who it is and falls off his bar stool. Lying on his back on the ground, he sees Skye looming over him. “Are you okay, Ward?”

     He pouts. “No,” he says pitifully, and she gets a hand under his arm and struggles to haul him to his feet.

     “Look, you’re being noisy out here and I’m sure you smashed at least three of Coulson’s glasses. Let’s get you to your bunk, hey?”

     “Skye,” he moans. He follows her into his bunk and sits heavily on his bed. “Skye.”

     “Yeah, buddy, I’m right here. What’s going on with you?”

     “I’m _miserable_ ,” he slurs.

     She closes the bunk door and sits down next to him, patting his leg. “Don’t be miserable.”

     “No, but I am! So miserable.”

     Patiently, Skye asks, “Why?”

     “You _hate_ me,” he groans.

     “No, Ward, I promise I won’t hate you.”

     “You already _do_ hate me.”

     She laughs, and it echoes around his head. “I don’t.”

     “I love you,” Ward breathes out on a sigh.

     There’s a pause, then Skye says, “What?” Her voice seems unusually high-pitched.

     “I love you,” Ward says again, and it feels good to say it. “I tried to pretend that I didn’t love you. And I tried to read your diary.”

     Now she’s frowning. “Uh, Ward? I don’t have a diary.”

     “Because you’re my rookie,” he continues hopelessly, “and you just have such pretty pretty _eyes_ and your nose looks really _sensible-_ ”

     “Gee, thanks.”

     “-and I want to hug your hair.”

     “So, are we sure that you’re just drunk? I mean, it sounds like there’s some other problem here. Did you take something weird?”

     “Nooooo,” he mopes, dragging the word out until it sounds like a cow’s bellow.

     Skye pushes him down until he’s lying on the bed. She yanks his boots off his feet and unbuckles his belt and pulls his shirt out of his pants. “I think you should sleep, Ward.”

     “Please believe me,” he says unhappily. “I really do love you. I love you when I’m drunk and when I’m angry and in the shower.”

     “I don’t think I want you to love me in the shower.”

     “I also love you on missions and while we’re training and it’s making me _so sad_ , Skye.”

     She leans over him on the bed and kisses his cheek. “Go to sleep.”

     “Stay with me,” Ward begs.

     Skye sighs deeply, and then she says, “Will you sleep if I stay?”

     “Yes,” Ward says immediately. He grabs her arm and pulls it close to his chest and closes his eyes. “Don’t tell Coulson.”

     Skye laughs softly. “Okay.” She lies down next to him and Ward holds onto her arm tightly.

     “I love you,” he says again, to see if it still feels good. It does still feel good.

     “You’ve mentioned that, Ward.”

     “Do you love me?”

     “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation with you while you’re drunk,” Skye says, almost to herself. “Look, Ward, it’s nearly morning already. Sleep now, and tomorrow I’ll make you coffee and I promise we can talk about feelings for as long as you want.”

     “S’girly,” Ward mumbles.

     “What’s girly?”

     “Feelings.”

     “Feelings are manly. And girly things are awesome anyway. Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”

     “You’re a girl.”

     “Yes, yes I am. You could also say woman, but let’s be honest, I don’t really care.”

     “I love you.”

     Skye presses her hand over his mouth and exclaims, “Just go the hell to sleep, man!”


	7. Step 7: Have A God-Awful Hangover

“Ward.”

     He opens his eyes, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. “Hell.”

     “Coffee,” Skye offers, so Ward makes the extra effort to sit up. His head is _pounding_ , and his whole body feels weak and wobbly and sick. The smell of coffee makes him sick.

     “I’m going to be sick.”

     “No you’re not,” Skye tells him loudly, and Ward winces. “Drink it.”

     Obediently, he puts the mug to his lips and takes a sip. And, yeah, that does make him feel better. “What time is it?”

     “About five in the morning,” she says. “You’ve had about four hours sleep, because you’re a loser, but that’s not my fault.”

     “Why did you wake me up so early?” he whines.

     She frowns. “Because you need time to recover before you have to start training me.” Rising to her feet, she stretches her hands over her head and yawns.

     Ward is distracted by the strip of stomach he can see as her shirt rides up. “Aren’t we going to talk?”

     “Oh, you remembered that, did you?” He thinks she sounds vaguely disappointed. “We can talk this evening, Ward. I’m not talking while you’re hungover.”

     Well, that seems reasonable, he thinks. Skye leaves the bunk, and Ward finishes his coffee and then crashes face down into his pillow. Today is going to be horrible.

 

Surprisingly, though, the day is not as bad as he’s anticipated. Skye is sweet to him all day, going easy on him in training, bringing him lunch, even telling Fitzsimmons off for talking too much around him. Ward doesn’t understand why she’s suddenly being nice to him again, but he’s happy about it. Very happy.

    

In the evening, he waits for Skye in her bunk. He’s determined to have this conversation.

     She comes in with wet hair dripping down her back, trying to rub it dry. “Hey, Ward.”

     “I want to talk,” he says.

     “Uh huh,” Skye agrees. She sits beside him on the edge of the bed, folds her legs up and looks at him expectantly. “So, talk.”

     Ward takes a deep breath and tries to think of what to say. This is it, he tells himself. The big moment. Time to tell the truth. Tell Skye how he feels. Reveal his deepest, darkest, innermost thoughts.

     “I, um, shower,” he blurts out. “No, I mean, you shower. You did shower. So, you just had a shower, eh?”

     Skye’s staring at him and her lips are twitching, which he thinks could mean she’s trying not to laugh. “ _Ward_ ,” she says patiently, “I thought you wanted to talk about feelings.”

     “No, nope, showers.”

     “My shower was great, thanks. I washed my hair.”

     Ward nods eagerly, and tries to pretend that he’s interested. “I had a shower today also.”

     Skye rolls her eyes. “You said you loved me,” she says without preamble.

     Ward gulps. “Maybe.”

     “No, you did, robot. Look, I don’t have a problem with it.”

     Wait. “You _don’t_?”

     She laughs. “Of course not!”

     “Doyouloveme?” Ward mumbles.

     “You what now?”

     “Do you love me?”

     Skye smiles, a beatific, wonderful thing that lights up her entire face. “ _Yes_ , Ward. Why do you think I’ve been pressuring you to tell me your feelings this whole time?”

     “You have?”

     “Um, yeah! Remember when you asked me about pancakes? You asked if I wanted to date pancakes.”

     “I asked about date pancakes,” he mumbles, but it’s obvious she sees through him.

     “I said I’d never tried them,” Skye tells him, “but I thought I’d enjoy them.” Ward doesn’t get it. Clearly, Skye can see that, because she rolls her eyes and says, “I was talking about dating _you_ , moron. I have no idea what it’s going to be like, mostly because we annoy the crap out of each other and you’re emotionally stunted – but I think I’m going to enjoy it.”

     Ward is still slightly behind in this conversation. “Did you… did you just agree to date me?”

     “I don’t know, Ward,” she says coyly. “Are you asking?”

     “Uh,” he stammers, and then he shakes his head furiously. This is _it_ , this is his one chance. No more time for fear. “Yes.” It sounds good. He says it again, firmly. “Yes, I am asking.”

     “Then yes,” Skye whispers, and she leans forward until her face is right in front of him.

     Ward definitely kisses her. It’s him who makes the move, he’s sure of it. Absolutely worth it, he thinks, as Skye’s lips touch his. All of his stupid behaviour over the past few days – it was worth it, for this. He’d do it again.


	8. Step 8: ???

As it turns out, there’s more than just kissing in store for that evening.

     At some point in the middle of the night, Ward wakes up and finds Skye draped over him. She’s kind of naked, and her skin is warm. He tries to think back to a couple of weeks ago, and wonders exactly what he’d been so scared of. Was it this? Because this isn’t scary.

     But then he remembers. He didn’t want to love Skye, because now that he does, it’s the most overwhelming thing he feels. He’s going to freak out every time she goes on missions (she’s already been shot once, how many more tiny heart attacks can he take?) and he’s probably going to get embarrassingly jealous when she flirts with guys.

     Still, at least now he has a _right_ to do all of those things. Well… he doesn’t exactly have a right to be jealous, but now he can say ‘hey Skye, maybe don’t flirt with all of those guys’ and she’ll understand where he’s coming from, and why he’s saying it.

     Skye opens her eyes. “You’re thinking too loudly,” she whispers.

     “Are you trying to say that my thinking woke you up?”

     She doesn’t answer him. Instead, she says, “I hope you enjoyed sex with me more than with May.”

     Ward splutters. Then he fumbles for a response. Eventually, he manages, “I don’t love May.”

     “Well good,” Skye says, “although I’m not opposed to polygamy, I’m just telling you now.”

     He chuckles. “I love that you make me laugh.”

     “Oh, is this a ‘things I love’ competition? Because I love your abs.” She pauses. “I would totally say something nice about your personality, but you’re kind of naked right now and it’s kind of distracting. Okay, it’s very distracting.”

     “I’m… sorry?”

     “Don’t be sorry.” Then she grins, wickedly. “I love that you care enough about people’s feelings to always be apologetic.”

     “That was a good one,” Ward admits.

     “I know, right?” She squirms against him, pleased with herself, then she says, “Can we just make-out for a while?”

     Ward’s definitely not opposed to that suggestion. “We can do whatever we want,” he says, and adds, “but you still have to be awake in time for training.”

     Her eyes glint. “I can work with that. Also, if we can do whatever we want, I vote for sex.”

     “That was blunt,” Ward manages. He’s trying not to blush.

     She shrugs. “We’re already naked, there’s no point being coy. Besides, I believe in absolute honesty with a partner. Okay?”

     “I’m always honest,” Ward says.

     “Except for when you lied about being in love with me and asked a bunch of weird questions for the last few weeks, sure,” she agrees.

     Ward could protest – probably should protest, because that wasn’t really _lying_ , it was _omission_.

     He kisses her instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a short chapter, but there's only so much I can put here that isn't smut.
> 
> Also, having been directed to a tumblr post which mentioned me (thanks, Aisling. You didn't have to be so gleeful about it though) I feel the need to reiterate that I DON'T write smut. If this counts as smut then... well, IDK, something's wrong with the universe, I guess.


	9. Step 9: Profit

It’s been four weeks.

     Ward almost doesn’t want to admit it to himself, but he’s _happy_. Skye makes him happy.

     Most mornings, they wake up together; in his bunk or hers, it doesn’t really matter to either of them. Sometimes, they’ll try to sneak out early, so that their teammates don’t see. After all, even if (like Skye says) they all know everything because Ward is useless at keeping emotions to himself, there’s no need to rub it in their faces.

     He’s still training Skye. If they get distracted sometimes and kiss each other frantically on the floor – well, no one’s watching.

     Except for May. She’s totally watching, but only because she volunteered to start overseeing Skye’s training more often. Actually, it was a really nice suggestion. With _Melinda May_ as the moderator, no one can dare say that Ward has exaggerated Skye’s progress. He’s grateful, because this has probably saved Skye a few nasty ‘sleeping with your SO’ comments from other agents.

     Some things haven’t changed. Like; Skye still hogs all the bread at dinnertime. (Why? _Why?_ ) She still interrupts him when he’s in the shower, too, although now he considers it more of a pleasant surprise. For reasons that he can’t really comprehend, Skye feels the need to have all of their most meaningful discussions to a backdrop of running water.

     The discussion about their future, for example, took place in the shower.

     “Are SHIELD agents even allowed to date?” Skye asks him. She’s still wearing clothes. Ward doesn’t think this is fair.

     “It’s actually encouraged,” he tells her. “Given that we aren’t allowed to talk to anyone outside SHIELD about what we did at work – although if your partner is Level 5 and you’re Level 7...”

     “You’d tell me anyway, though, wouldn’t you?” Skye says confidently.

     “Well, it depends how sensitive the information is, Skye.”

     She gapes at him. “Take it back. Say that you’d tell me anyway.”

     Ward considers his options here. He hates backing down – but Skye hates it more. Also, they’re four weeks in and haven’t had a major fight. He thinks this might turn into a major fight.

     “I’d tell you that there was something I couldn’t tell you,” he says at last. “And then I’d let you pry it out of me.”

     Skye smiles, a slow, unfurling thing. It’s beautiful. “Good,”

     Ward doesn’t know how long this can last, but already he knows he’d be lost without her. They’re still separate people – Skye has her private time in the SUV, and she’ll usually leave him alone at the punching bag – but at the same time, she makes him better.

     So much better than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I guess that's it! This has been a fun, fluffy little fic to write. I hope you all enjoyed it :D


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